I walk in the front door, exhausted from work, and sling my handbag on the hall table. Hearing noises from the kitchen, I head in that direction, hoping you might have started dinner. Unfortunately not, you are standing there, obviously just waiting for me to get home. With a sharp gesture you order me to strip, and I comply immediately, knowing I will be punished if I hesitate. I quickly remove my short black pencil skirt, sweater and blouse, but hesitate over my matching lingerie. Sometimes you like it to stay on, and today it's a particularly delicious set, a bright green mesh with lace ruffles. You shake your head at me, so I quickly strip that off too, slightly regretfully. Stepping out of the panties, I bend down to take off my very high heels, but you sharply pull me up. I guess I'm to leave them on then.
You manoeuvre me over to the kitchen table, and press my pubic bone up against one end. I feel you behind me, I am trapped between you and the table, and I grin, anticipating doggy style. Furthering my anticipation, you pull the pins out of my hair, grab a handful, and push my head forward. I bend at the hips, and your hard cock presses into me from behind. I turn my head as you crush me down against the table's surface. My breasts are squashed flat, and my head is being held in one place. With your other hand you grab one of my wrists, and bring it up over my head, and then swap hands to do the other. Letting go of my head, you move away slightly, and the next I feel is rope encircling my wrists. You bind them together tightly, knowing my Houdini escapades and tendency to wriggle. I can't see you, but I know the gentle tugging on the rope means you are likely securing me somehow.
I feel you walk around the table, and suddenly you slide your hands up between my legs. Obediently I spread my legs for you, wondering when I will get the fucking I am now aching for. I feel rope slide around each ankle in turn, and delicately test me range of movement. In reality there is none. From what I can tell, each of my ankles is securely bound to a table leg, spreading my legs just as effectively as a spreader bar. My ass and pussy are wide open and completely vulnerable to you, and I attempt to wiggle them enticingly at you. You affectionately slap my ass, and I smirk. I feel you gathering my hair up and I frown, wondering what you are doing. Suddenly some rope lands across my back and I feel you braiding it into my very long hair, and then wrapping it around. Next it pulls at my hair, and I have to lift my head up to avoid my hair being ripped out. You secure the ends of the rope somewhere, I think to each table leg, leaving my head raised up. This arches my back, pushing my butt further into the air. A sight you are no doubt enjoying.
Suddenly I become aware you are no longer nearby, and a tiny thread of panic travels down my spine. The seconds tick by, feeling like years, as I wait more and more anxiously. I start to move feebly against the restraints, knowing it to be useless as you will have tied them firmly. Suddenly I feel something thin and nasty swipe my ass. I howl, realising you have reappeared and caught me struggling. A big no-no!
You switch me four more times, my standard punishment of five for trying to escape. I feel the switch travel up my inner leg, and quiver, knowing it is not beyond you to leave welts wherever you so desire. This time you are merciful, and I hear the switch being laid down away from me. I hear you gather things together, then I see you walk around in front of me. On the table where I can see them, you lay out several kitchen implements. There are multiple pairs of tongs, two wooden spoons, a spatula, a fork, and a wet dishcloth. There are also several spring-loaded wooden pegs, the switch, and an anal plug. I shiver, wondering what you will be doing to me, but you give nothing away with your expression.
Firstly you grab the butt plug and I relax, this one is fairly obvious. You walk around behind me, and use my freely flowing pussy juices to lubricate it, then gently insert it into my ass. Next you peruse the rest of the collection. As you reach for the wooden spoons, I tense, my expectation that I will be beaten causing my muscles to contract. I feel you stop behind me, and suddenly something is prodding at my pussy. I open my mouth in shock... you're inserting the handle of one of the wooden spoons into my pussy! Quietly I ponder the possibilities of splinters. Then you start rotating it and somehow I lose my train of thought. Leaving the spoon where it is, you start prodding at my pussy again. I realise your intention is to have both inside me. I am so wet the spoon encounters little in the way of resistance, and soon I am left with two wooden spoons sticking out of my pussy.
You come around to the front and grab the tongs. There are four pairs in total, and I ponder what you might be planning. Moving to the side of the table, you grab a reasonable chunk of my breast, apply the tongs to it and tighten them so they won't fall off. I begin whimpering as they dig deeply into my flesh. You repeat this on the other side, causing me to breathe in sharply to cope with the pain. Each of the other two tongs is applied to the front of a breast. The pain is very strong, and it takes a lot of willpower not to cry out. Next you grab the pegs, and I do cry out a little. The pegs are my nemesis, I dislike them so. There is around half a dozen, and as you take them behind me I whimper again. I think I know what you are going to do. I am proven right when you stretch my labia out, attaching three pegs to each side. By this stage I am regularly whining, a sad little noise I seem to have little control over.
The next to be applied is the fork. I'm pretty bemused by this, wondering what function it might have. But you use it to tease and torture me unmercifully. Applied with the lightest touch it tickles and causes goosebumps, with a heavy hand it scratches and burns, leaving pretty, bright red marks all over my body. Soon you get too enthusiastic and I start crying out in pain. You stop, and murmur soothing words in my ear. I try to relax, but I just can't. Your hand reaches across in front of me to grab the washcloth and I sigh with relief, but relief is not yet available. You use the cloth to flick me all over my pussy, ass, and back, taking your time to make beautiful welts. I cringe away from each strike, as best I can. You start down my legs, and then back up again. The entire surface of my exposed body is red. I think there can't be much more, until I remember the spatula. You grab for it quickly, and suddenly start spanking me hard. I scream in agony, and start begging for you to stop, but you won't. I feel like my ass is on fire, and then my pussy as you accidentally (I hope) get the wooden spoons. I am sobbing my heart out, pleading and pleading for you to be lenient. Finally I give in and just absorb the pain, at which point you stop... you had been waiting for that.
Working quickly you remove the pegs (ouch!), the wooden spoons, and the tongs. The removal refreshes all the pain, and I start to whimper again. Suddenly I hear a buzzing noise. You have grabbed my favourite vibrator and wedged it between my clit and the table. My whimpers turn into moans of pleasure. Next I feel something nudging at my pussy, and I cry out triumphantly, as your cock enters my cunt agonisingly slowly. The feeling of you inside me, along with the butt plug and clit stimulation sends me over the edge instantly. I absolutely holler with the pleasure of it, and you start thrusting faster. I know you like pounding me, and soon you are crushing me hard against the table with your action. I hear your breathing escalate, and I know it won't be long. You cry out that you are cumming, and I am pushed over the edge again myself.
Your thrusts wind down slowly, and you collapse against my ass. After a few seconds you get up, and quickly set about extracting me from the ropes (and the butt plug from me).
We go into the bathroom, and you gently clean me up, treating the scratches and welts carefully. My legs are very shaky, so we only travel as far as the couch, where you tuck me up against you, arms tight around me. You cover us both in a blanket, and we huddle under there while we wait for my shock to subside. I cry, I laugh, and I am quiet. But most of all I am yours.
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